


Love's Pure Light

by RiverWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, F/M, Godric's Hollow, Harmony & Co Advent Collection, Patronus, Romance, War, frienship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverWriter/pseuds/RiverWriter
Summary: Hermione refused to let Harry go wandering off after Bathilda Bagshot that fateful Christmas Eve in Godric's Hollow and her stubbornness was just the kind of Christmas miracle they needed.





	Love's Pure Light

Christmas Eve 1997- Godric’s Hollow

“No,” Hermione said decisively as Harry began to follow Bathilda Bagshot up the stairs.

“No?” Harry answered, looking back at her in question.

“No, I won’t just wait here,” Hermione tamped down on her natural instinct to go along with his wishes, not when she knew that he was so emotionally vulnerable- there was an urgency thumping in her veins, telling her her that something felt very wrong about this whole situation, and reminding her that Harry was more than a little biased when it came to this town. His judgement might not be the best at the moment and it was her job to protect him; so that he could complete his task, but also...he was her best friend and she couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

He paused on the stairs. “You won’t?” He asked incredulously, she was often accused of being bossy, but when it came down to it she usually followed his lead.

“No,” she repeated and reached out and snagged his hand, “would you let me go alone?”

“No,” he said immediately.

“Then how could you ever expect me to do the same?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not,” she insisted. “Where you go, I go.”

He gave her a long hard look but she didn’t balk.

“I’m serious, where you go, I go, Harry.”

He took a deep breath, growing frustrated and even more anxious than he already had been, he wanted to move. “I think she wants to talk to me alone.”

“I don’t care,” she said, that stubborn set to her jaw that he knew so well.

He opened his mouth to respond when she cut him off.

“Dumbledore meant for us to be together with this task, didn’t he? He told you that you could tell me about it, after all?” She asked, refusing to even mention Ron. “That was so that I could help, not so you could go running off on your own.”

He just nodded, though he very much wanted to argue, she was making a little too much sense and they were wasting time.

“Then she can’t begrudge me accompanying you, if she was also tasked by Dumbledore, can she?” Hermione continued to insist.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded again, then just shook out the invisibility cloak and threw it over her head alone. “She seems wary of you, come up just behind me, watch our backs.”

“Okay,” she murmured her assent.

They ascended the stairs quietly. Hermione clutched the back of Harry’s jacket through the cloak to keep him close as with every step she grew more uneasy. There was just something wrong here.

When Harry began to question Bathilda, growing more irritated and demanding every time he spoke, she wanted to shake him. Hadn’t he learned better than to lose his temper by now? Didn’t he feel, as she did, that they were already in dangerous territory?

And then the thing she didn’t know she’d been waiting for happened. Harry was distracted by something across the room, he was still focused on finding that stupid sword, but Hermione’s eyes hadn’t left the old woman the entire time they’d been in the room. So, she saw the moment her body began to shudder violently and then somehow became unhinged at the neck. And, like something out of a horror film, an enormous snake which exuded darkness emerged from within. Hermione shrieked though it took her a moment to realize the shrill sound was coming from her mouth. And she was frozen in shock, until the vile thing dared lunge towards Harry.

She didn’t think, she just acted, as she threw the cloak off a spell that had never come naturally to her burst from her lips. “Expecto patronum!” She yelled at the top of her voice, throwing everything she had into it.

A radiant otter burst forth from her wand, more beautiful and more powerful than it ever had been, it filled Hermione’s heart with joy, despite the circumstances. By contrast, the effect it had on the snake was cataclysmic. It was as if she’d thrown a grenade at the great reptile; it exploded, and rained down a disgusting deluge of blood, guts, and bone shards on herself and Harry. She looked at Harry in shock, a ridiculous apology for the destruction she’d inadvertently wrought on the tip of her tongue, only to see that he was clutching his scar- and appeared to be in agony.

“He’s coming!”

Again, Hermione didn’t think. She just ran to him, took his arm, and twisted on the spot, returning them to their (relatively) safe haven of the tent and her wards.

When they landed they just stared at each other for several minutes.

“Are you okay?” Hermione eventually asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered.

She began to move around almost manically, getting things set back up again, prattling on about how she was sorry they hadn’t gotten the sword, and what kind of magic did he suppose that was which allowed Bathilda’s body to host the snake. Harry just continued to stare at her, his heart thumping in his chest, but it wasn’t fear he was feeling

“Hermione.”

She didn’t seem to hear him.

“Hermione.”

Still no reaction.

“Hermione!”

She jumped and a hand flew to her heart. “Harry you scared me.”

“Hermione you killed the snake.”

She just blinked at him.

“You killed the snake with your patronus!” He strode up to her and threw his arms around her, uncaring that they were still covered in snake gore. “You brilliant girl.”

He pulled back, grinning at her but he didn’t release her, and slowly she began to smile as well.

“I did, didn’t ?”

“That’s another one down!” He whooped. It was better than finding the sword, it was more than he could have hoped for out of the night. And then there was something about Hermione’s patronus, he’d seen her cast it before, but there had been something different about it tonight, the way it had made him feel...he was reluctant to let her out of his arms, and it wasn’t due to the scare they’d just had.

“Harry?” She asked bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“I asked if you would help me clean up?” She gestured down to herself.

Harry would have preferred to actually bathe and he was certain that Hermione felt the same way, but it had been a long night and neither was up to doing the work involved in order to make that happen. So he just nodded, pulled out his wand and began casting a series of cleansing charms on her- always more effective to have them cast on you rather than do it yourself. When he was done she gave him a questioning look, he just nodded and she took out her own wand and repeated the process on him.

“So,” she said when he was done, for some reason she suddenly felt shy and couldn’t meet his eyes. “Do you want to take the first watch or shall I?”

“I really don’t think I could sleep right now, so I’ll do it,” he answered.

She bit her lip. “I don’t think I could either, I’ll just keep you company.”

“Okay, yeah, that would be nice,” he admitted, realizing that what he really wanted was to have her back in his arms.

They started a fire and huddled around it together, whereas they’d usually link their arms companionably, tonight he chose to wrap one arm around her instead, she looked up at him as he did so but just smiled and gratefully snuggled into his warmth and his familiar, comforting scent.

“Do you believe in Christmas miracles?” Harry asked, breaking the silence when he could no longer contain himself.

She shrugged. “My parents aren’t particularly religious and magicals don’t really believe in Christmas, it’s just a quaint tradition derived from a muggle religion, so I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

Harry grinned to himself at that non-answer, his heart tight with affection for her. “Never change, Hermione.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking this feels a whole lot like one.”

“Oh! Well, yes, I suppose stumbling on a horcrux and accidentally destroying it is pretty miraculous, especially considering how bad our luck has been.”

“No, Hermione, not that.” He raised a hand to her face and encouraged her to look at him.

“Oh,” she gasped as she met his eyes and her brain finally accepted what her heart and her soul had known for years when she saw the depth of love she felt for him reflected back in those beautiful eyes.

A love so deep it allowed her to produce a patronus even in the face of something as warped and evil as Voldemort’s familiar. A love that destroyed that great evil like it was nothing at all.

“The way your patronus made me feel,” he explained quietly, never looking away from her. “It’s the same feeling I live with everyday, the same one I get every time I look at you, but this was coming _from_ you, and only now do I really understand what it is I've been feeling all this time, and I’m just amazed. That feeling- that love- was for me, wasn’t it? That’s why you’re still here?”

“Harry,” she breathed, brushing her lips ever so gently against his. “That’s why I couldn’t be anywhere else.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this piece was taken from the lyrics of the song "Silent Night." I've never seen a more accurate description of a patronus than to call it "love's pure light." Thanks for reading and Happy Holidays!


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